


The Shirt

by theplotchickens



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, Hermann is very much in love, Husbands in love, M/M, Moving In Together, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-20
Updated: 2018-06-23
Packaged: 2019-05-25 20:57:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14985434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theplotchickens/pseuds/theplotchickens
Summary: When Newt leaves, Hermann finds a shirt he left behind. Sadness ensues.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Wow this is sad. Sorry y'all. Comments and constructive criticism always welcome (this is my first fic I've ever posted on ao3)! Please leave a comment!

After Newton leaves, Hermann finds himself staring off into space more often. His tea goes cold as he sits and looks at the mess surrounding his quarters. He gets distracted in the middle of an equation when the newly empty half of the lab catches his eye. He eats alone, either suffering the noise and crowd of the mess hall or retreating to his room for a silent, lonely meal. 

He calls, quite a few times, but he only ever gets a quick, indifferent hello, then an excuse to push him off the phone. Hermann feels like he's no more than a nuisance to Newton anymore, a reminder of the not-so-glamorous life he had been leading before he left for bigger and brighter things. Hermann hopes Newton's doing important work, even if it's without him. He can't feel anything over the drift between them, and that scares Hermann more than anything. He just wishes he had something to hold on to. Anything to keep him grounded in reality. 

After a few months of this disconnected existence, he finally gives up and goes through the box of Newton's things that were left behind. Whether they were forgotten or simply unwanted, Hermann doesn't know. Inside it, he finds a kaiju figurine, a veritable pile of paperwork, and a black T-shirt. The shirt is oversized, and Hermann suspects Newton used it for sleeping, mostly. Wordlessly, Hermann takes the figurine and the shirt. The tiny replica of a kaiju finds its home on Hermann's desk. A small reminder, he tells himself.  
The shirt comes with him to his quarters and he spends a solid half an hour looking at it wrinkle under his spindly fingers. Finally, he gives in and raises it to his face. He inhales, and his eyes well up with tears. It smells like old sweat and the ridiculous cologne Newton insisted on wearing. It smells like late nights in the lab and vicious arguments and apologetic cups of coffee and naps on the lab couch and _Newt_ and it's too much.

 

Hermann takes a shaky breath and slips the shirt over his head. The familiar smell surrounds him and he spends the rest of the evening with his chest surprisingly light.

 

_The Next Morning_

Hermann blearily blinks his eyes open. He looks to the digital clock on his bedside table to see that he has slept in. With a weary sigh, he sits up and stretches. He gets up, with difficulty common in the early morning and makes his way to the bathroom. When he flicks on the light, he catches sight of himself in the mirror. A black T-shirt hangs from his thin frame. The front displays a cartoonish kaiju and some Japanese characters he can't recognize. A wave of nostalgia washes over him, quickly followed by a stronger wave of longing, stealing the breath from his lungs. He looks down at the shirt and smiles sadly.

He wears the shirt almost every night. He tries to tell himself that it's just a very comfortable shirt, but a deeper part of him knowingly spirals. Hermann just can't let him go. They'd been through too much, shared one too many memories. If Newton gets to run off and change every aspect of himself, then it's up to Hermann to preserve the memory of his old lab partner. An unpredictably wild and infuriating man who lived with such joy and curiosity it made Hermann's entire being ache. Hermann can't bring himself to think about the past, so he tries to put it and The Shirt out of his mind. Still, he wears The Shirt almost every night.

 _It's not here_. Hermann rifles through the piles of old clothes littering his floor desperately. _It's not here_ he thinks, his heart and mind racing. He had come home from the lab with the hopes of retiring early, only to discover that The Shirt was missing. With a dawning horror he remembers the load of clothing he had carelessly sent to the laundry room in an attempt to clear some of the clutter from his quarters. Grabbing his cane, he moves quickly from the room and down the hall, forgetting his slippers. In a close approximation of a run, he hobbles into the elevator and down a corridor to the laundry room. It seems abandoned, the workers done for the evening. He rushes into the room just as a timer on a dryer goes off, the loud beep startlingly loud in the emptiness. 

With a distressed groan, Hermann reaches down to open the dryer and see the contents. His long fingers reach in and pull out, undoubtedly, The Shirt. He raises it to his face, as he had so many times in the past nights, but any trace of Newton was gone, washed away and replaced with a sickly sweet chemical scent. His eyes close tightly and he slumps down to the floor, his back pressed up against one of the many dryers. Despair, loss, and longing cloud his mind, until a bright burst of anger fills him. He can't even have _this_. Every trace of Newt has been robbed from his life and he can't even have a bloody _shirt_ that gave him some small piece of happiness. Hermann's chest aches dully in response to his frustration. His eyes are wet and blurry. His fingers clutch the black fabric tightly, as though trying to squeeze any last drop of Newt out of them. He sits there, tortured, for so long, he loses track of the minutes.

He probably needs to leave soon, someone will find him here. He just...needs a moment to grieve.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newt and Hermann are moving in together and Newt makes an interesting discovery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a lot less sad! I wanted to focus on how those 10 years affected Hermann and how he's dealing with that loneliness and healing alongside Newt!

“Hey Herrrrms?”

Hermann smiled at the tinny voice that echoed through the house. He set down the bag he had been carrying in and straightened up. The house, still new and unfurnished, was lit softly from the late afternoon sun and the light fell on countless boxes full of equal parts clothing and science equipment. It was a mess of orderly chaos and in the middle of it all stood Newt. His hair was thankfully, _beautifully_ , messy and just as disheveled as it had been so many years ago. His eyes were alight and playful and his lopsided smile stretched charmingly across his face. His short frame was almost dwarfed by all the boxes stacked up around him, but his energy filled the room until it was bursting. He was so alive, Hermann’s breath caught in his chest just at the sight of him.

“Hermann.” Newt’s voice shook him from his reverie.

“I-yes, what?”

Newt’s grin brightened. 

“You know I love you staring at me, and honestly, I can’t blame you,” Hermann rolled his eyes out of habit. “But what’s this doing in the box from your apartment?”

Hermanns eyes fell from Newt’s face to his hands. There, hanging loosely from his grasp, was The Shirt. Hermanns eyes shot open and his face immediately flushed a bright red.

“What’s with _that_ reaction?” Newt chuckled lowly, confusion evident on his features.

“That’s, um, nothing, Newton.” Hermann stammered. “Just a shirt. You must have left it behind and it got mixed in with my laundry or something to that effect.”

“Well, sure dude, but why are you so embarrassed about it?”

Hermann sniffed and turned around, trying to regain his composure. 

“Hermaaaaaann, tell meee…” Newt’s petulant voice followed Hermann as he walked down the hall to the empty kitchen. 

Bracing himself on the counter, Hermann took a few steadying breaths. He had nothing to be ashamed about. He wasn’t ashamed, he reasoned with himself, simply caught off guard. He had all but forgotten about The Shirt after the events of the past year and the sight of it still brought up many powerful emotions. 

“Hey, Herms?” A gentle voice came from behind him. He turned to see Newt standing in the doorframe, still clutching The Shirt. His face was softened and apologetic. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…” he trailed off.

“I understand, Newton. And it’s not your fault, I promise.” Hermann reassured him. He looked at the man before him, bright, brilliant, and so, _so_ strong. He felt a warmth fill his chest, pushing away the ache that had lived in it for so long. Hermann took a deep breath, and began talking.

He told Newt about everything. Every dull afternoon in the lab, quiet and deserted without Newt’s mirth. Every lonely meal in the mess hall, surrounded by people and noise, but never able to partake in it. Every night where he would wake from a nightmare reaching for someone. Finding the shirt and feeling a little less lonely. Accidentally washing the shirt and feeling like he lost Newt forever. Hiding the shirt so he wouldn’t think about it. Seeing Newt after all those years and then… everything after…

While Hermann is talking, Newt’s face stays neutral. When Hermann finally finishes, he looks up at Newton, out of breath from talking so much. 

Wordlessly, Newt set The Shirt on the counter next to him and stepped forward wrapping Hermann in his arms. The taller man’s breath shuddered as it was let out in a shaky huff. Hermann dipped his face down to rest between Newt’s face and his shoulder. He shook with mute sobs as he held onto the man wrapped around his middle. Newton was always able to draw out the emotions Hermann kept bottled up inside. He was so _warm_. 

Newt's hands moved up and down over Hermann's back soothingly. He could feel the love floating softly over the barely-there drift that still existed between their damaged minds. He took this feeling and sent it back over the connection, smiling slightly. He's here now, Hermann thought, with me. 

Newt’s head leaned back and looked up at him. His eyes were bright with tears, but he was smiling too. He tilted his face closer and caught Hermann's lips in a soft kiss. Hermann's hands found themselves in Newt's hair and they leaned into each other. 

After a while, Newt pulled back and looked into Hermann's eyes. 

“Ok, but I need to see you in that shirt because it's my favorite and you would look absolutely _adorable_.”

“Newton, I swear to God.”


End file.
